


True Colours

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Ace!Jemma, Asexual Character, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, MCU Bingo, Polyamory, Prompt: Romantic Gestures, mcu bingo 2018, pride 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 11:36:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14976368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: Jemma has been out and proud about her pansexuality for years, but is uncomfortable showing her ace colours at Pride. Fitz and Daisy surprise her with a quiet demonstration of their support.Fluff, with a touch of hurt/comfort. Rated G.





	True Colours

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was written for my [mcubingo](https://mcubingo.tumblr.com/), "FitzSkimmons > Romantic Gestures" square, as well as for an Anon who sent me a Pride prompt asking for "Fitzskimmons + ace!Jemma, set after she's come out."
> 
> Title from "True Colours" by Cindy Lauper.
> 
> I am still accepting prompts, but prioritising those that will help me with my [bingo cards](http://theclaravoyant.tumblr.com/post/174958815476/prompt-me-mcubingo-edition).
> 
> This fic is ace positive. Aphobic & ace-exclusionist comments will be deleted immediately.

As if the cheering and chanting at the parade hadn’t been enough, Fitz, Simmons and Daisy then packed themselves into a nearby karaoke bar. Gay Icons™ were the order of the night and Lady Gaga, George Michael, Sia, and Freddie Mercury were amongst the popular choices blaring from the speakers, accompanied by the voices of those intoxicated on alcohol, sugar, and Pride. Hardly used to the raging social lives of their youth, which sometimes seemed much further back in time than an outsider would have guessed, it took them a round of chips and beer to catch their breaths. Still, they were smiling, and admiring the ostentatious, the bizarre, the ridiculous, and the creative amongst the costumes around them.

“I love those rainbow skirts,” Daisy pointed out, as one lady sidled past with rainbow ruffles down to her ankles. “Makes me wanna shake my hips.” 

“I’m a fan of the pun shirts,” Fitz added.

“I like it when people weave their own flags into their outfits,” Jemma mused. “You know, everyone’s expecting your garden variety rainbow, but some people pick the colours of their own flag instead. I think that’s neat. A clever little symbol, that only means something to those who get it, you know?” 

“Mm,” Fitz agreed. He wore blue and grey plaid, unbuttoned over a shirt with a blue decal of a lion on it; a celebration of his trans identity, representing his masculinity and of course his name. It was subtle, as far as Pride outfits went. Jemma’s on the other hand, was not: a bright yellow shirt, bright pink bandana in her hair, and bright blue jeans. Daisy nodded at Jemma’s ensemble, and asked; 

“How come you never go with ace colours?” 

“I don’t know,” Jemma confessed with a shrug, and ducked her head in a way that suggested she did in fact, know, and was just trying to avoid the question. “White, grey and black, not particularly flamboyant colours are they?” 

“And purple,” Daisy reminded her. “I reckon you could rock like, a purple suit, some silver glitter, something like that. Killer heels high as hell. Slay those bitches with this body they can’t have.” 

Jemma laughed for a moment, but then she shook her head, and picked at the label on her bottle of beer. 

“I don’t know,” she repeated. “It’s too much fuss, I guess.”

She left it at that, but Fitz and Daisy shared a glance. They didn’t get involved much with the politics of Pride, often having too much on their plates aside from anything else, but they knew enough to know that asexuality was controversial. But – so controversial that Jemma felt unwanted here? Unwelcome to share this part of who she was? They couldn’t let that stand. Then again, what could they really do about it, in this moment? 

Before they could decide, however, Jemma was the one to stand up and shake the moment off. She drained the last of her beer and left the bottle on the table, and fixed her hair with a bright smile.

“Come on then!” she beckoned, nodding to the stage. “We came here to drink beer and sing badly, and I’ve just finished my beer.” 

-

They had a fantastic night, singing and dancing and cheering and drinking and kissing until their voices were hoarse, and until when they stumbled back to their hotel room they collapsed in a tangle of limbs on the bed and fell into a deep, warm and comfortable sleep. The next day was spent nursing their hangovers, and soaking in each other’s company far from the life-and-death urgency of their daily jobs, or the club scene that still pounded music in their heads. Huddled in bed together, they ordered a room service lunch with plenty of strong coffee, rich juice, and heavy foods to balance out the sugar and alcohol. They spent a lazy day napping and cuddling, switching the tv on and off, and talking. They debated the prospect of a swim in the hotel pool, and flicked lazily through newspapers and magazines and the heap of brochures and publications they had collected between them at Pride. It was not a particularly exciting day, but it was soft and refreshing, private and relatively luxurious compared to their everyday lives. 

And then Fitz interrupted it, suddenly rolling up a magazine and slapping it down on the bedsheets.

“I’m going to go for a walk,” he announced.

“That’s brave,” Daisy remarked. “I’m going to stay warm and away from traffic, if you don’t mind.”

“Is everything okay?” Jemma wondered. “Did you forget something last night?”

“No, everything’s great,” Fitz promised. “I just think some air will do me good. I won’t be long. See you soon.” 

He kissed each of them briefly, took his jacket and swept off out the door with the magazine still rolled up in his hand. But not long after the door to their room had shut behind him, Daisy’s phone buzzed with a text message. On the screen, she saw a photograph of a magazine page: a jewelry advertisement, featuring an array of jewelry in silver, purple and white. Many of the pieces, Daisy thought, were lovely in and of themselves, but after their conversation last night, Daisy had a feeling it was the colour scheme that had struck Fitz in particular.  
  
Her phone buzzed again, and a series of texts appeared, confirming her suspicions. 

_These gave me Ace vibes, think Jemma would like them?  
_ _Thinking the bracelet closest to the front._

Daisy perused the options, and had to agree; it was dainty and subtle, a classic that would easily slip into Jemma’s wardrobe. Smiling to herself, she texted back a thumbs-up emoji, and suggested;

_See if they have it in gold, still with the white diamonds/sapphires/whatever. It’ll match her other stuff better. If not too $$$_

_$200-300,_ Fitz confirmed. 

_Sold! I’ll go halvsies. Can you bring one back tonight?_

_Boxing it now xx_

“What are you smiling at?” Jemma teased, eying Daisy’s phone, though from this angle and distance she couldn’t actually see the screen. 

“Oh, you know Fitz,” Daisy replied, with a roll of her eyes. “It’s cold and loud out there, he’s having regrets.” 

“And texting you about it? I’d have thought he’d prefer to come back here and groan at length,” Jemma remarked, with a grin.

“Took refuge in a Starbucks,” Daisy lied. “He was asking what coffee I want. To listen to him groan at length over, I assume.” 

“Oh, fantastic. I would kill for a properly brewed tea, it’s rubbish in American hotels. Citrus Mint, if they have it? Otherwise, Earl Grey.” 

“It’s Starbucks. They always have it. But done.” 

 _PS –_ Daisy typed. _She thinks you’re getting Starbucks and now I kinda want you to. Come back with Citrus Mint tea and a caramel latte pretty please?_

_Done._

Daisy beamed. Jemma smiled crookedly too, enjoying the knowledge that her love was so happy, but unable to shake the suspicion of a trained spy.

“Seriously,” she demanded, “what are you so excited about?” 

Daisy pouted innocently. “I can just smell that sweet sweet caramel, that’s all.” 

Jemma narrowed her eyes. “It’s a gift, isn’t it? You guys have got something for me.” 

“Yes. A Citrus Mint tea, I hope.”

“You are infuriating.”

“Thank you.” 

“Seriously, tell me!” 

“Seriously, no!” Daisy insisted, mimicking her tone of voice. “All will be revealed, I swear. Just wait til Fitz gets here. Trust me, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

It was not easy for Jemma to soothe her insatiable curiosity, especially when she felt a secret was deliberately being kept from her, but she’d done well to trust these two in the past. And they’d already confessed it was a gift, and clearly it was something to smile about. So Jemma took a deep breath and cuddled into Daisy’s side, and after that it was not long before Fitz pushed into the room with his tray of hot drinks, and a small black box peeking just ever so slightly from the pocket of his jacket.

“We’ve been made,” Daisy informed him, before he could so much as open his mouth to announce his arrival.

“Oh, I didn’t need to bother with the drinks then?” 

“Yes, you did,” Daisy encouraged, gesturing for him to bring it to her. “But it also means we can skip the stuffing around and get straight to the real present.”

“Okay. Here goes.” 

Jemma sat up as Fitz set the drinks on the table, brought Daisy hers as requested, and then pulled the bracelet’s velvet box from his pocket. It was long and thin, and Jemma stared at it in breathless wonder as he cleared his throat and opened it. 

“Oh, wow, that’s amazing,” Daisy remarked. “Go us.” 

“Fitz!” Jemma breathed, lifting the bracelet gently. “Daisy! What is this for?”

After a moment, she noticed the colours. It was harder to guess without the interspersed black, but given their conversation the previous night, the pieces didn’t take too long to fit together. Fitz and Daisy, for their parts, waited for the realisation to dawn before they began to explain. 

“Look, whatever you want to celebrate at Pride is up to you,” Daisy said, “but you looked real bummed out about not wearing ace colours so when Fitz saw this I thought, perfect, something that didn’t have to be, you know, A Statement, but still means something… to those who get it.” 

Jemma tilted her head, touched by Daisy’s choice of words.

“I just wanted you to know,” Fitz added, “ _we_ wanted you to know, that who you are? It’s never ‘too much fuss’ for us.” 

Jemma nodded, and swallowed, a sure sign that she was getting overwhelmed. 

“Thank you,” she said softly. “It’s beautiful. I love you both so much.” 

“I do also have another gift though,” Fitz promised, and pulled a plastic bag from inside his jacket, containing something flat and light. He held it out to Daisy and she took it, and shook it. She was quite sure jewelry didn’t make a sound like that. Nor would Fitz, epic romantic that he was, ever wrap jewelry in a plastic bag. No, hers was a much simpler gift, but one which brought a smile to all three of their faces.

“You remembered?” 

“Of course I did.”

There were many movies that a group of lovers might have watched on a quiet day in together, especially the day after Pride and excitement and too much alcohol, but when that group was comprised of professional spies slash amateur nerds who spent their lives underground, perpetually behind in popular culture… well, sometimes the new _Jumanji_ was just what the doctor ordered.


End file.
